


Delicacies

by sannidings



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fannibal Secret Exchange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sannidings/pseuds/sannidings
Summary: Delicacies that stimulates the memory, ease the feelings and draw together what is meant to be together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fannibal Secret Exchange gift for the-teacupshatters.tumblr.org
> 
> I hope you like it :) Its my frist Hannigram Story!

:  
The fall from the cliff had not only driven them down into the cold water of the ocean, it had also driven an invisible wall up between them that none of them was able to climb.

The way Hannibal always wanted Will to see what he views his acts, how he always wanted Will and him to be together, to finally understand one another on a psych level. It felt good when Hannibal had said it to Will in front of the raging ocean. Will felt his heart swell, felt the need to be with Hannibal, much stronger than ever before.

But now, 3 month later, it still felt awkward to constantly be with him and to be the center of his affection.

It drove Will up the wall, made him feel uncomfortable and uneasy.

Of course he had imagined being with Hannibal once in a while. Had pictured them both living together, being together. He was sure both of them had painted their own picture of how their future would look like.

He wasn’t sure if Hannibal had imagined the outcome like this, because Will clearly hadn’t.

He had thought it would be easier, that the love for each other would help them develop their relationship. But it hadn’t.

They orbited around each other like planets in the same solar system. They could see each other, but couldn’t get near in fear of a collision. They were drawn to each other, craved the presence and company, but weren’t able to express their feeling like they wanted to.

Will felt crushed with all the affection Hannibal was showing to him.

And he didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried. Oh yes, he had. But it just had ended in another argument about nothing in particular. It hurt Will a great deal that seemingly they weren’t able to function together, and he didn’t know what their future would bring. He and Hannibal haven't been speaking for days now, and Will felt like the ceiling was coming down on him without any distractions.  
So, Will busied himself with the decorations for Christmas. He had found a small box with some fairy lights and a few candles inside and decided it might lighten the mood around them a bit.

Christmas was nearing and he actually wasn’t looking forward to it. Not like he had to when he still had been with his family, with his dad, or with Molly and Wally.

Hannibal had found another way to entertain himself, the plates that were carefully arranged on the coffee table were overflowing with baked goods such as ginger bread, cookies and small pralines. Just looking at them made him hungry, so he snatched a small cookie from the plate and hastily stuffed it into his mouth.

The mixed flavors of cinnamon, something musky and a hint of orange hit his taste buds. He wasn’t able to hold back a moan of delight.

The cookie was tasting fantastic, sure, Will thought, Hannibal made it. Everything he made was pure perfection. Instead of completing his task of putting up the fairy lights that like he was supposed to, he casted a closer look at the sweets that was presented on the plate.

He took one of the pralines and popped the small round chocolate ball into his mouth as well. We wasn’t one for trying first, he wanted the whole thing without getting sticky fingers. His tongue worked around the rich chocolate coat of the praline, melting it with the warmth of his mouth causing the filling to be released.

It was a mix of Whiskey, a wooden, but flowery taste of a fine brand, he recognized and then there was something sweet, cranberries maybe? Will could suddenly remember what that taste reminded him of. He had been drinking, drinking a lot, to clear his head, before… before he had been imprisoned, before everything went downhill. Hannibal had eased his headache then, with a smoothie made of fresh berries and lots of cranberry.

Will smiled to himself and took another one of the cookies. This time he bit just a small piece off of it and savored the taste again. Indeed it was orange he was tasting, and also the cinnamon was clear. But he couldn’t make out the third aroma he had on his tongue.

“It is the nutmeg you are looking for,” came a voice from the doorframe. Will turned around in surprise and saw Hannibal standing in the doorway, apron still bound around his waist with a fresh plate of baked art in his hand. The memory hit him like a ton of bricks. Nutmeg, cinnamon and orange had been in his tea when he was ill. It provided strength with that combination, and helped him regain his strength back expeditiously. Will blushed while the memory unfolded itself and a fond smile graced his lips.

And suddenly it dawned on Will that all the small delicacies on this plate were Hannibal's way to say sorry. To remind him what they had experienced together, what they had been through.

Hannibal smiled back at him, offering him the plate he was still carrying. Will made a step towards Hannibal to see what was on the plate, and was barely able to stop the small laugh that escaped him when he saw the heart shaped macarons with tasty looking crème in between. He looked up to Hannibal and could see how he was trying to say something, probably to apologize.

But for Will the gesture he had made, the memories he had brought to life again were enough of an apology to him.

“Are you making something else? Can I help you in the kitchen after I finish the decorations?” Hannibal’s eyes were glassy, a sign that he was appreciating Will’s offer immensely. “I might need some help with the sweet bread I am making. Should I give you a hand with the lights first?” He pointed to the fairy lights and noticed the messy way Will had tried to place them over the mantelpiece. “It would be easier…” Will said, agreeing with Hannibal. He smiled at him, and handed Hannibal the lights to place them together with him.

It was a short timed task, completed within few minutes. They admired the small lights that casted a warm light over the framed pictures and decorations that had found their place on the mantelpiece.

Hannibal's arm found his way around Will’s shoulder, making him jump a tiny bit since he hadn’t expected the closeness. He looked up to Hannibal, his maroon eyes reflecting the lights that shone bright in the nearly dark afternoon. Wills heart made a sudden jolt, and warmth spread through him, from his curly roots to his toes.

He didn’t dare to blink, he wanted to drink in the beauty of the man next to him and store away this memory. His mouth had a mind of its own that moment when he blurted out three little words he hadn’t said in a long time, but felt this was the right moment to say them anyways. “Let’s bake together,” he said and smiled even brighter.

Hannibal tugged Will close to him and gave his shoulder a small squeeze. They walked into the kitchen like this, where Hannibal already had prepared all the necessary ingredients for the cranberry-orange bread he was baking.

“We need 340 g flour, 150 g sugar, 1 package of baking powder and ½ teaspoon of natron, and a tiny bit of salt. Would you mind to weigh them, Will?” Will smiled to Hannibal, measuring each ingredient like he had told him and also mixed them together. He carefully, without making a mess with the flour, mixed it in with the sugar.

“We have to crack an egg and then use the grater to rub the skin of the oranges here. We need a tablespoon of that if you want to make it.” Will put the bowl with the flour aside and went on the hunt for the grater. Hannibal had bought the utensils he needed in the kitchen and stored them away like he was used to.

While he was rummaging through the drawers Hannibal took a knife out of the block on the counter and swiftly cut 50 g walnuts without the shells and 100 g cranberries into small pieces. Will watched Hannibal’s slender but strong hands held the knife and how the muscles on his forearm worked with each move. Will knew what this hands could do, how cruel, but also, how tender they could be. Another memory of them tangled into the sheets of his home in Wolf trap came to his mind and he blushed furiously.

Hannibal saw the red blotches crawling up Will’s face and neck and Will could have sworn Hannibal was able to read his mind. The movement of his hands stilled, and a smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Will busied himself again with his hunt for the grater until Hannibal pulled open the drawer to his right and pointed to it. “It’s in here,” he said and watched Will making his way over to him, squeezing his small form through the space between Hannibal and the counter. The touch of their hips sends Will into another heat rush causing him to stay a moment longer between Hannibal and the counter than needed.

Will could feel other parts of his body reacting to the closeness now as well; never had he anticipated that baking bread could cause him to be half hard while looking for baking utensils.

He grabbed the grater out of its place in the drawer and squeezed himself back to his place on the counter where the oranges were already placed. He rubbed the oranges over the grater and their smell filled the kitchen.

He cut the oranges and used the juicer to get 150 ml of oranges juice to add into the dough with the egg, the skin of the oranges, and 30 g of smooth butter.

Will looked over to Hannibal to see if he had finished cutting the cranberries and walnuts. The ingredients were in small bowls and he noticed that Hannibal was just watching him while he put together the ingredients.

He blushed again under Hannibal's gaze, he felt on display again, but not in an unpleasant way. This time the way Hannibal looked at him made him fuzzy and warm all over, and a tiny bit nervous too. Using the whisk to stir all ingredients together he noticed his hands shaking and before he knew it, a blotch flew over the rim onto the counter. Will was swearing under his breath, he felt like he was baking for the first time, like he was a newbie who was intimidated by the teacher, in this case Hannibal.

The heat crept unto his cheeks again and suddenly the warmth increased further as a warm body pressed into his back lightly, a smooth hand gripping his and guiding the movements of his hand. “Just small movements, slowly, we want to mix them, not beat them together.” Hannibal's warm breath tickled his earshell and made him fully aware of how close they were. Will fixed his gaze on their joined hands, his heart beating thunderous in his chest.

Hannibal’s other hand had found his way onto Will’s hip. He was sure he would left burn marks through his clothes with the way he held him until he sneaked his arm around him to grab the bowl with the flour.

Painfully slow he let the flour into the bowl as well, still holding Will’s hand and guiding the whisk in his hand.

Hannibal found he should release Will out of his embrace, out of his misery and let him pull himself together again, but he wanted to tease him one last time.

His finger dipped into the dough and he held it to Will asking,” Do you mind tasting it to see if it’s good this way?” Without hesitation Will took Hannibal's finger into his mouth. What was meant as teasing Will turned Hannibal on instead, as Will sucked his finger into his mouth, his tongue twirled around it to free it from the sweet and sticky dough. Hannibal had to swallow a lump of desire forming in his throat, overwhelmed with the sensation of Will’s mouth around his finger.

“I think…we.. can put the cranberries and walnuts into it now and put it in the oven,” he choked out before Will release his finger who now had smug grin on his face.

The dough was filled into the baking tin and left in a preheated oven on 180 ° C.

Will came up beside Hannibal, and locked eyes with him. “We have to wait an hour while the bread is baking, don’t we?” he asked Hannibal, who still wasn’t able to form coherent complete sentence yet.

“I think I have to get out of my clothes. It’s getting pretty warm in here; would you want to join?”

It was an invitation that Hannibal would never turn down.

It took them more than an hour to return back into the kitchen, and therefore, they had to bake the bread again—but another time in another story.


End file.
